Como otro invierno

Like Another Winter

Seems like just another winter,
when you filled your notebooks
with sweet and trembling handwriting;
it was nothing but this little
D'Artagnan, who abandoned you
and left you alone like furniture
in the attic.
But, how life goes,
now you have company,
and you'll play the piano with him
with four hands; and Mozart
will laugh at me,
at your crimson cheeks
and that plush doll
I gave you in April,
will drop two tears,
like two red tears.
But you won't see them.
And whistling a Polonaise, he will set
the table with the crystal dishes
a memory of your mom.
But what does it matter,
a man is a man, babe,
and he could even be happy,
though from time to time
I remember you.